


The Dragon Rises at Midnight

by PandorasPinata



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Daedric Princes, Daedric Quests, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Modern Person in Fantasy World
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:55:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22305280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandorasPinata/pseuds/PandorasPinata
Summary: Amy Dixon is a woman out of space and time. After finding an ancient ritual site while on a walking holiday in Sweden, she awakes to find herself in a strange city called Markarth. After a chance encounter with a priest and a god, she finds herself embroiled in a world of dragons, vampires and prophecies. How will she survive?
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Serana
Comments: 3
Kudos: 122





	1. New Beginnings

Amy sighed as she tried to settle down on her flight. While she was looking forward to taking a walking holiday in the forests of Kolmården, anything to get a break from her family at this point, she couldn’t say she was enjoying the travelling. It had been bad enough sat in the airport for 2 hours dealing with the delays before finally boarding to find herself sat in front of a small child who’d clearly never flown before and was having a less than pleasant first experience.

She couldn’t blame her family for being concerned about her, it had been a particularly messy break-up and she hadn’t handled it as well as she perhaps could have, coming straight on the back of the stresses of submitting her dissertation (“Pagan rituals and their cultural significance"). Amy had found it enjoyable to research at the start but as the deadline loomed, she’d become basically a recluse, only venturing from her cramped dorm room for takeaways and snacks and ignoring near every attempt from friends to hang out. In hindsight that neglect may have been why her ex had in return become so distant, and why their plans to hunt for an apartment together over the festive period had instead ended with Amy finding a letter through her door suggesting that they should take some time apart, time apart that had become much more permanent when she’d headed to the students union to drown her sorrows and seen Her tangled up with one of the women’s rugby team in a booth, giving out one hell of a PDA. Still, her parent’s insistence that she headed back out and enjoyed a few nights out with friends was frustrating, why could they not let her just have some time by herself to grieve the relationship?

Well, she’d have plenty of time by herself to deal with those lingering regrets while out on this trip, although resting would have to come on the coach down to Krokek, where she’d spent her first night before setting out into the national forest the following morning. _“And",_ she thought as she gave up on sleep and instead pulled out a battered fantasy novel set in the universe of those elder scrolls games (something to tide her over until the release of the new instalment Skyrim due the following year) _“if I were to catch a bit of rebound action out tonight, they certainly couldn’t complain”_.

\--

As the flight touched down onto the runway in Stockholm, Amy closed her novel and slide it back into her backpack ready to be on her way. It had been a relatively enjoyable read, focusing on the events in a plane called Oblivion, home of Gods or Demons, it was never entirely clear, called Daedric Princes and their attempts to influence the life and claim the soul of the protagonist, a woman with mysterious powers known as The Timeless One, a being from another world who as a result could manifest realms of Oblivion with the realm of Nirn. Amy chuckled under her breath as she considered the Daedric Princes; while a year ago she’d have happily pledged herself to Sanguine had that been an option ( _“Hey, who didn’t go to university with the intent of at least experiencing the party lifestyle while they were there?”_ ), Hermaeus Mora seemed more in vogue with her current habits, so caught up in her research and quest for knowledge she had in the end lost the life she thought she had, although the whole being driven to madness deal he had going on was a massive con. That said, he seemed powerful enough to protect from the influence of Molag Bal, a character who brought a chill to her spine just to think about; representing as he did such depravity and cruelty it didn’t bear thinking about. _“Perhaps it’s best this is just fiction"_ , Amy mulled to herself as she watched the countryside fly by the window of the coach bound for her hotel, _“This world is cruel enough without beings like that influencing it as well"_.

The trip to the hotel was mercifully short, and while Amy’s room was little more than the bare bones, it perfectly covered what she needed – a good sized bathroom for cleaning up after her hikes, a desk to sit at and properly write up or sketch any scribbles of things she had found intriguing on her walks, and a delightfully soft bed that looked more appealing with every passing second after that nightmare flight. _“There’s no harm in a quick nap before this evening”,_ Amy rationalised as she staggered to it, throwing off her coat and scarf before scrambling under the covers. Her head had barely hit the pillow before she found herself in the warm embrace of slumber, and she was near as silent as the grave despite the most peculiar dream. She dreamt of herself, but not herself, somehow more powerful and beguiling, of a crypt, of strange dogs and spiders the size of horses, and a woman in a monolith, the most enchanting woman she had ever seen. The woman rose to face her as Amy began to get lost in this mysterious woman’s eyes. She opened her mouth as if to speak, the shine of her smile almost enough to distract from the glint of her eyes, when...

BANG!

Amy jolted back awake as the sound of a car engine backfiring. Grumbling, she turned to check the time on her phone screen. 11pm. Well, she could forget about hitting a bar and immersing herself with the locals, not that she had much appetite to after that dream. Who was that mysterious woman and why was she so irresistible? Amy could swear there was something unnatural about her, but she’d been so mesmerising that it had been impossible to tell what. Grunting, Amy tossed over and fell back to sleep, hoping to return to that dream and see the woman again.

Amy slept, and saw more visions of herself, but much as she might wish, the dream about the mysterious woman in that crypt didn’t return. As morning broke Amy strode out of the hotel with a renewed vigour, excited for her first day exploring the surrounding forests. While at the back of her mind she remained curious about the visions of herself and the mysterious woman, Amy was first and foremost overjoyed to experience the majesty of nature she hadn’t seen before. There was a crispness to the air, and a light dusting of snow underfoot, as Amy clambered into the taxi that would take her out to the start of a nearby hiking trail.

The trail had been everything Amy had hoped it would be, a remarkable walk through unspoiled woodland that inspired childlike wonder at the world around her. Or, at least it was until she’d slipped down an incline too steep to return to the trail. With a defeated sigh, Amy began to work her way parallel to the trail she had just come from, looking for a point at which she could clamber back up.

After 20 minutes of walking, Amy was bought to a halt by a fascinating sight. She could hear the babbling brook near the entrance to the trail just beyond the densely wooded area to her left, but in front of her was a small clearing with what appeared to be some sort of ritual site or burial mound at the centre – certainly the arrangements of stone pillars were no natural phenomenon. Excited, she drew a small sketchbook and pencil from her backpack and began to draw out the scene in front of her – she would have to remember to send photos to her supervisor later and garner their opinion on her discovery.

Satisfied with the sketch in her notebook, Amy pocketed her drawing materials and began to inspect the site itself. Approaching one of the pillars, she saw an ornate engraving of a dragon, with its wings arranged to create a diamond around the body. She’d never seen anything like this before, and curious she brushed away some of the vines starting to grow round it to look for more details as to what it might mean. As she went to move the vines out of the way, she pricked her finger on a thorn. Swearing, she withdrew her hand to inspect the damage, but didn’t notice the blood dripping down the stone and onto the engraving. As it made contact with the head of the dragon, the eyes began to glow, and a bright light engulfed the clearing. By the time it had faded, there was no indication anyone had been there at all.

\--

Groaning, Amy began to stir. Something felt amiss, she could swear she had been in a small clearing examining an interesting ritual site, and yet now she felt incredibly groggy and her surroundings seemed completely unfamiliar. Bolting upright, she heard a stern voice:

“Awake at last, you drunken blasphemer!”

Amy glanced around and saw a middle-aged woman, dressed in some sort of hooded robes, walking towards her, a glint of anger in her eyes. Puzzled, Amy spoke:

“Blasphemer? Sorry, but, where am I and what happened?”

Instantly, she knew this had been the wrong thing to say. The woman’s lips pursed and Amy saw a vein on her forehead twitch. Sharply, the woman responded:

“You are in the temple of Dibella, the most holy place here in Markarth. And you, blasphemer, strode in here after hours, slurring a song about a fair maiden and proceeding to fondle the statues".

Amy winced, “ _Markarth? I’ve no idea where I am. Better try and fix this and try and learn more"._

“I’m so sorry, I can’t remember a thing. Truthfully, I don’t even know where I am – I’ve never heard of a Markarth before. What can I do to repay my sins, and can you help me figure out what happened?”

“You can figure out what happened by cleaning up the mess you made of this temple. No doubt there you’ll see what you did".

With that, the woman turned her back on Amy and walked off deeper into the temple. Amy rose to her feet, somewhat uncertainly, and saw she still had her travelling backpack with her. Looking around, she saw several empty alcohol bottles and... someone’s toe? Gingerly, she picked up the toe with a nearby piece of cloth and looked to drop it in a bin, but as she did so she saw a note stuck to the base of the toe. Peeling it off, she inspected it.

_“Well Amy, that certainly was a great first impression you made. I’ve not enjoyed debauchery like that in this region for thousands of years. But, I’m guessing you’re curious as to what you are doing here in Skyrim? No worries, I can certainly answer that. If you wish to know (and to continue our party of course), meet me in Morvunskar. I’ve left you a map in that journal of yours._

_Sam Guevenne"_

Mystified, Amy stared at the note. _“Party? That couldn’t be right_ ”, she thought, “ _no, I was out hiking. Wait. Skyrim!? As in, the elder scrolls game region? I must be being pranked; this can’t be real"._ Cautiously, Amy opened the door to the temple, planning to find out where she actually was, and as she took in the sights her heart sank. This town looked like those dwarven ruins in her Morrowind game. That letter might be telling the truth – certainly she wasn’t in Krokek anymore.

Uneasily, Amy climbed down the stairs towards the main town. She could hear the bustle of a market down the hill and decided to venture there, maybe someone could provide her with directions or a lift to this Morvunskar, although how she was supposed to pay for that escaped her – she highly doubted the locals accepted the euro as valid currency. Amy was so caught up in her current situation, she didn’t see the grey robed figure in front of her until it was too late.

“Oh, I’m so sorry sir. I wasn’t paying attention, I’ve had a really bad day and I’m-“

The grey robed figure raised a hand to cut her off. “It’s fine ma’am, no harm done. Perhaps you can help me though, I’m Tyranus, with the Vigilants of Stendarr. I’m here on official business, investigating activity here in this house", gesturing to the door cut into the cliff to his right, “I don’t suppose you know anything about it?”

“Oh, no. I’ve only just got into town really", Amy offered back sheepishly.

“Hmm, well it’s not as if the locals have been any more help", Tyranus replied, eyeing her expression with an air of suspicion. “Look, I’m going to need to go in, would you mind joining me? Could do with an extra pair of eyes.”

Amy nodded, and followed Tyranus through the door. The room she entered seemed remarkably active, with a pot simmering above a lit fireplace and the table set as if for a meal. And yet...

“There’s no one here”, Tyranus spat, with disappointment in his voice, “and yet, someone was clearly here recently.”

Venturing deeper into the house, Amy couldn’t shake a feeling of worry. What had happened here for the occupant to just disappear? She tried to push that question to the back of her mind as they entered what had clearly been an office at one point, a lit candle burning on a desk with a journal open and a quill and ink pot besides it. Tyranus went to inspect the journal, as Amy saw a calendar on the wall next to another door, with a date circled. 20th of Evening Star. Amy wondered the significance as she pushed through the door, and came face to face with an altar. Reaching up from the altar was a monstrous stone head with wide reaching pincers on either side of the face, and a viscous red liquid flowing from the heads mouth into the bowl of the altar below. Amy began to back away to grab Tyranus when the liquid stopped flowing, and the air began to shimmer.

Turning and breaking into a run, Amy reached the door only to find it locked. She heard the roar of a fire behind her and turned to see a large humanoid figure stretching as it stepped from the altar, it's visage as gruesome in life as in stone. The figure was garbed in impossibly black armour and stared at her with vivid red eyes. It opened its mouth as if to speak, and a booming voice surrounded Amy, penetrating into her head

**“Summoning day at last, and you make such a fine dedication Mortal. It will give me great pleasure to take that from you"**

Amy whimpered, and unable to bring her voice louder than a whisper asked, “What are you?”

**“I am Molag Bal. Daedric Lord of Domination"**

_“Oh god no",_ was all Amy could think before Molag Bal grabbed her and everything went dark. All she could do was scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading - this is my first attempt at a fanfic, because I really enjoy the person from the real world ends up in a fantasy one trope, and there's not enough of it out there. I'm hoping to update approximately once a fortnight but would welcome feedback.
> 
> The implied rape/non-con tag is there because Molag Bal is just horrific. I don't intend to ever write that sort of thing, but it is an important part of Serana's canonical backstory, so it's there if you know the lore but that's as far as it will ever go.


	2. New Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who know the backstory of vampirism within the elder scrolls series, the first couple of paragraphs do imply a similar fate for Amy as for Lamae Bal and Serana - I've tried to keep it as ambiguous as I can and focused more on the transformation into a vampire afterwards but it's a potential trigger.

The darkness engulfed all of Amy’s other senses, all she could feel was pain, the most primal and agonising pain she had ever experienced. Every second felt like a lifetime. She had no idea how long had passed before the pain ceased. As it did, a single drop of liquid landed on her lips. On instinct her tongue flitted out and was met by a warm, metallic taste. She could barely process that fact before it started.

The burning. There was no sound of fire, in fact Amy couldn’t hear anything, even the air was deathly still. Despite that she felt as if a fire had been lit in her core, and slowly spread across her entire body. Every part of her, down to her bones, felt as if it had been set alight, bringing a fresh wave of pain. Amy prayed for death, but every time the burning seemed to grow in intensity until it felt as though she had been placed alive atop her own funeral pyre.

Gradually the burning started to recede, leaving a chill in its place. Amy felt it draw all the way back into her core, and then... nothing. Amy could hear nothing, not even the beat of her own heart. Suddenly she shot up, gasping for air. Amy felt odd, as she blinked several times. Her vision seemed different, so much more powerful than it was before. She could see the flecks of dust dancing in the air from the candlelight creeping beneath the door. She pushed her senses further and could hear the market down the hill, the cheers from the tavern next to it, and, much closer, a single rhythmic beat that captivated her. Smell was the next sense to return, and while the rich aromas of the stew in the hearth upstairs still lingered, there was a far more enticing scent in the next room, a scent that made her throat ache with desire, a thirst like no other.

Amy pushed back through the doors. If she had been fully aware of her surroundings, she might have found it odd that Tyranus still had his back to her, flicking through the journal on the desk and completely oblivious to what had happened at that altar. However, all Amy could focus on was that delightful odour that made her mouth water, and the rhythmic thud of Tyranus' heart. She didn’t even notice the push of two extended upper canines as her mouth opened, as she pounced onto the unwitting form of the vigilant in front of her.

The cry in the vigilants throat died as quickly as it came, as Amy sank her fangs into his jugular. She drank greedily, barely noticing the vigilants’ struggle to free himself or how feeble they became. His heart gave a final weak thud, before she dropped his now still body and pulled away. As her hunger died, she started to notice her surroundings. Her eyes fell on the desk and the still open journal that Tyranus had been inspecting. She barely had time to wonder what had happened to him before her eyes had scanned down and found her answer.

Amy’s breath caught in her throat as she saw the lifeless figure of the vigilant, his eyes glassed over and his throat torn. _What had she done?_ _What had she become?_ With trembling hands, she lifted herself towards a nearby mirror. Surprised, she saw herself staring back, but yet not herself. Her skin had lost every imperfection, and her complexion had changed to a flawless porcelain. Her fire-y red hair, where previously wiry and untamed, shone as it sleeked down to her shoulders, framing her face, which looked sharper, her cheekbones more defined. None of this however could distract from her eyes. Where previously they had been a bright and sparkling blue, they now glowed golden, her pupils forming cat-like slits. Trembling, Amy opened her mouth to confirm what she already knew. There, amongst her pearly whites, were two elongated canines, the tips of which were covered in a brilliant scarlet. She dropped to the floor and began to weep.

\--

What felt like hours passed before Amy stopped. She knew she couldn’t stay here – there was only so long before the guards came investigating, or members of the Vigilants of Stendarr came looking for Tyranus. She felt awful as she searched Tyranus’ satchel for anything that could help her, but what use did a dead man have for material things? In his satchel, she found a handful of gold pieces, a map of Skyrim and a note. Unfurling it, Amy read:

_Tyranus,_

_I understand you are busy with that suspected incident in Markath, but I would request you return to the Hall as soon as possible. I believe I have found something serious, related to the origins of vampires within Skyrim. I have sent Tolan to see Isran, while he may consider himself done with the Vigilants, I’m sure his new “Dawnguard" will be interested, but we need to act. Meet me at Dimhollow, in the mountains behind the Hall, by sun up of the 22 nd of Evening Star._

_Adalvald_

The origins of vampires? Amy’s dead heart could have skipped a beat – if they understood how people became vampires, maybe they could cure her. Amy took the steel mace off the belt loop of the vigilant. She pondered for a moment taking his vigilant robes, her current jeans and hoodie attire was hardly inconspicuous around here, but couldn’t bring herself to strip a corpse like that.

As the sun set behind the mountains that this city called home, Amy slipped out of the house and down through the city. The lower portion of the city still bustled with locals making their way home or into the Silver-Blood Inn, but in their haste to see off the working day no one paid her much attention. Sneaking out of the main city gate, Amy found the outer city mercifully quiet as she began her long trek north to Dimhollow.

The night was crisp and cold, far too cold for an ordinary person to be out without so much as a torch to warm them, and anyone with a credulous eye who saw Amy sprinting along the road would fast work out what she was, but for Amy the temperature was barely noticeable. With the night she felt alive, her hearing sensitive to all the life around her as rabbits scampered through the underbrush, the yip of foxes on the hunt, and owls swooped down on mice within the fields. Far up a hill, she could hear the sounds of a party, as the small mining village of Karthwasten loomed. Amy barely gave it notice as she focused on making Morthal by dawn. This single mindedness would soon cause problems, as she rounded the road and crossed a bridge over a fast-flowing river. Stepping out from the shadows, the lone watchman on duty at Robber's Gorge drew his sword across her path.

“Well then, what do we have here? You made a bad choice wandering the road at this time of night little lady. What say you hand over that bag of yours and we’ll proceed from there?”

Amy gulped. What was she supposed to do? – his tone and menacing demeanour suggested this wouldn’t end with her handing over her bag and getting to carry on her business. Not to mention that her bag contained her journal and every connection she still had to home. No, it was out of the question. Uncertainly, Amy shook her head; “I can’t do that, please just leave me be”.

His response was to grip his sword tighter and declare that if she wouldn’t comply, he’d have to take it by force. At this moment, Amy regretting saying no when her older sister Beth had suggested joining her self-defence classes: Beth had always been the sporty and combative one while Amy enjoyed her artistic pursuits – but her drawing ability wouldn’t be much use now. She saw the bandit lunge towards her, and panicked she closed her eyes and swung the mace. A sickening thud told her that the mace had hit it’s intended target, knocking the bandit off to the side.

Groaning, the bandit began to pull himself to his feet. “You’ll pay for that!”. Amy however didn’t consciously hear him, as her attention was honed onto that scent. The contact of the mace had drawn blood from the bandit. Predatory instincts kicked in as Amy dropped the mace and launched herself at the bandit before he could recover. He could barely splutter out the word vampire before her fangs had sunk themselves into his neck. As she began to drink, she became aware of what she was doing. Not again, she couldn’t... Amy pulled herself away from the bandit’s body and stared at what she had done. Terrified, she began to grab her things ready to carry on running, when she noticed the bandit begin to sit up. Pushing herself away, she prepared for him to attack her again. Nothing however could have prepared her for what happened next.

“Mistress, how may I serve you?”

 _Mistress? What have I done?_ Amy struggled to process what the bandit had just said, while he sheathed his sword and stood staring at her like a child that had opened its eyes for the first time. She knew from the vampire myths of her home that they were capable of enthralling mortals – turning them into little more than servants, with only the will of their vampiric master in their actions – but this was a different world, maybe even a different dimension. Could the same rules really apply?

Cautiously, Amy addressed the bandit. “I– err– why are you talking like that, you were...”.

The words trailed off as the bandit cocked his head. “Yes mistress, I was attempting to rob you, and I throw myself at your mercy for that. You, you opened my eyes. I must serve your will.”

Welp! Enthralled it is then. Amy looked at the bandit through conflicted eyes. She felt awful at having stolen his free will, and yet she couldn’t deny that having an escort of an experienced fighter would be really useful – had it not been for a stroke of luck he’d have already run her through. She resolved to take his help, maybe the vigilants at Dimhollow could help free him as well.

With the aid of her new thrall, Amy made it to Morthal with just minutes to spare. As the sun crested over Stonehills, she threw herself through the door of Moorside Inn. She would at least be safe from the sun in here, provided she could keep a low profile for the day. The woman behind the bar barely looked up at Amy as she approached. Before Amy could speak to the innkeeper however, she found herself pulled off into a side room.

Turning to face her assailant, Amy found herself face to face with a raven-haired Nordic woman, gold and silver bangles adorning her wrists and biceps, a pendant dangling from her neck into the cut of a dress that left very little to the imagination. A glint crossed her eyes and as the woman spoke, Amy saw the unmistakable presence of fangs like her own. Another vampire. Every fibre of Amy’s body tensed for a fight, but if the woman noticed she gave no indication.

“Did Movarth send you? Tell him I’ve got this town wrapped around my little finger and nearly ready to move, I don’t need help”, the woman hissed.

Amy could only blink, dumbfounded. Was she talking about a full-scale vampire invasion of Morthal?

Her confusion didn’t go unnoticed as the woman growled. “Outsider! The blood in this town belongs to us! If you aren’t gone by sunset, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

Amy reacted instinctively, grabbing the woman by the throat and lifting her off the ground – she was no match for Amy’s pure-blooded strength – and hissed back. “I don’t know who you are– ”

“Alva” , choked the woman.

“Very well, Alva. I don’t intend to stay in Morthal more than a day, but threaten me like that again and we’ll see how strong you actually are”, Amy snarled, dropping the vampire and baring her fangs, which were elongating as if ready for a fight.

With wounded pride, Alva fled from the room and the inn itself. Amy stalked out of the room and to the innkeeper, who remained oblivious to the confrontation between the two vampiresses. Throwing down ten gold pieces, Amy rented a small room for the day and retreated to it immediately. Dismissing her thrall to “spend the day around the town preparing, and be back by sunset”, Amy pulled her journal from her backpack.

A single tear began to run down her cheek as she turned open the journal. There, on the first page was a full-page sketch of her parents and Beth, all relaxing around the fireplace after their early Christmas celebrations. She had planned to show her family it when she returned from her holiday, but now it remained a stark reminder that her family were all but gone, with her trapped in this land and no idea how to get home. Curling up, Amy flicked to the latest page and began to write. Undisturbed for hours, Amy poured her feelings out on to the paper, the only friend she had in this world. Eventually, a soft knock came on her door.

Sunset had arrived, and with it Amy and her thrall set off on the second leg of her journey, walking through the marshes and out into the mountain range beyond it. The marshes could be described as little other than unnerving. Amy could swear she heard the chitters and clicks of earwigs out in the fog, but they sounded like they were several orders of magnitude bigger than the ones at home that could be crushed underfoot. It was small mercy that any creatures out in the fog seemed determined to give her a wide berth, but still a blessed relief when the fog parted as they reached the base of the mountains. Their trek up the mountains was reduced to slower and slower progress as the snow began to beat down upon them, to the extent that Amy began to wonder how they were even supposed to find the entrance to Dimhollow in all of this – it could have been covered and they’d already walked past it none the wiser.

Those thoughts did not last long though. Amy heard them before she saw them, and with the blizzard raging was able to pull herself and her thrall into cover before they could get a glance back.

“Tolan, at last", the smaller vigilant, who Amy surmised to be the Adalvald of the note, greeted his muscular companion. “I take it you were not able to convince Isran?”

“Not as such”, the gruff voice of this Tolan responded. “He insists they’re busy rebuilding and cannot spare much on vigilant business. He would only let Agmaer leave with me.” Tolan gestured behind him to a young boy, Amy estimated he could not be older than 20, carrying nothing more than a small single-handed axe.

“Well, thank you for your assistance Agmaer", Adalvald nodded. “I wrote to Tyranus asking for his aid, but it seems that he will not be joining us. Shall we proceed?”

The three vigilants nodded and proceeded into a cave entrance to their left. Carefully, Amy gestured to her thrall to follow and slipped into the cave behind them.

Amy was astounded to see the combat ability of these vigilants. The initial cavern had stationed within it two fledgling vampires, clearly intended to keep guard. Whoever they had been in their previous life, they had not been experts in combat. While Adalvald was clearly a more defensive combatant, relying on wards and healing spells that marvelled Amy from the shadows, his colleague Tolan was an aggressive tank, wielding his giant hammer in a manner that constantly had the fledgling vampires on the back foot. Between them this Agmaer demonstrated the tactical advantage of his slight form and minuscule weapon, sliding underneath attacks and hacking away at his opponent.

As they proceeded through the cave system, Amy could not help feeling as if she recognised her surroundings from somewhere. Progressing deeper in, Amy watched the vigilants dispatch shambling zombies, skeletons and more vampires with remarkable efficiency. She had never felt more out of place in this world than being reminded that even the priests of this world were battle hardened and ready, while back home she had never even seen this sort of weaponry, let alone had cause to use it.

After lifting a large portcullis, the presence of which baffled Amy, and fighting off a spider the size of a horse (if she ever got to return home, Amy would never complain about the small house spiders again), the three vigilants progressed through a wooden door into a second chamber. Amy snuck in after them and realised precisely where she recognised this cavern system from. This was the crypt from her dream, the crypt where that enchanting woman had been. Had it been a vision of her future rather than just a dream?

Conversation below snapped her from her thoughts, as she heard Tolan ask Adalvald what he had found here. Amy tensed however when she heard a new voice from the shadows.

“Yes Brother Adalvald, why don’t you enlighten us all”, drawled the new voice, as Amy saw him – another vampire, and judging by the way he carried himself, quite a powerful one. A second vampire, this one a mere fledgling, stepped out behind him.

Adalvald was defiant. “I’ll never tell you anything vampire. My oath to Stendarr is stronger than anything you can inflict on me”.

The elder vampire chuckled. “Oh, I believe you, and I don’t think you even know what you’ve found here”. Drawing a sword from his hip, the elder vampire settled into a combat stance. “So, why don’t I send you to meet your beloved Stendarr?”

“Lokil–” the fledgling began to caution before being cut off by Tolan. With a primal roar he launched himself forward, swinging his warhammer with such fury that Amy was sure anyone who found themselves beneath its path would struggle to get up again, vampire or not. She soon found out as the warhammer made contact with the skull of the fledging, a sickening crack echoing throughout the cavern as the fledgling vampire crumpled to the floor, unmoving.

Watching, Amy noticed that Tolan had come off from that attack far from unscathed. Dropping from the hand of the fledgling vampire was a small golden dagger, coated in red. The scent soon followed, and Amy had to grip herself and the frame of the doorway tightly to avoid losing herself to her instincts again – it would do no good to break into the middle of this fight to feed. She watched, desperately trying to hold onto her senses, as Tolan turned back towards his colleagues, a deep gash down his chest from which spewed a vivid crimson. He barely made two steps before collapsing himself, and Amy lost control.

While Tolan had launched his attack, Lokil had shot straight for Adalvald. The elderly vigilant was doing well to parry wave after wave of attacks with his magical wards, as Agmaer looked to put the vampire onto the backfoot with a series of well-timed swings of his axe. Snarling, Lokil swung his arm at Agmaer, sending him flying into the wall. Agmaer did not get up again and, satisfied his pest had been dealt with, Lokil turned his full focus onto Adalvald. The attacks of the elder vampire increased in intensity, causing the vigilant to sweat as he threw up ward after ward, counter-spell after counter-spell with increasing speed. It was only a matter of time before his mana was drained, or his incantation was slightly too slow and Lokil would have the victory he so craved.

The moment came, as Adalvald’s shield spell flickered and died, Lokil’s sword plunging through it and through the heart of the vigilant. Watching the light fade from his eyes, Lokil then turned to head to the ornate archways on a small central island, only to see Amy stalking towards the prone form of Tolan. 

“Well, well, who have we here? I’ve never seen you in the court before.” Lokil grinned, making Amy uneasy. “Not that it matters of course. This is my discovery and will be my reward from Harkon. I’ll not have you take it”.

Amy backed into a crouch, hand drifting to her mace ready to try and defend herself as Lokil stalked forward. So preoccupied he was with her however, he did not notice her thrall enter the fray and draw his sword. As Lokil lunged so did her thrall, and with a mighty swing Lokil dropped to the floor, his head rolling away down the steps to her right.

Uneasily, Amy got back to her feet. The smell of blood lingered in the cavern from the three dead vigilants, but without them being alive, Amy found herself surprisingly able to control that gnawing thirst that set her throat alight. Instead, thanking her thrall for his intervention, they crossed a bridge to the small island. Running around a central pillar were several ringed grooves within the stonework, braziers sat in holes where further grooves running from the pillar intersected. Retreating to collect a torch from the sconces lining the previous room, Amy attempted to light the braziers but to no avail.

Clearly the central pillar must have some relevance, Amy thought as she began to pace towards it, inspecting the area for any other clues. Atop the pillar was a large, rather rusted button. Had she been playing this as a video game, she had no doubt she would press the button – that was the first rule of progress in that situation – but, faced with the idea that a video game had become her reality, pushing an unknown button seemed like an absurd idea. And yet, with nothing else presenting itself as an option, Amy placed her right hand upon the button and pushed.

For a moment, nothing happened. Amy started to wonder if it was a decoy of some sort before a spike came out of the button and straight through her hand. A searing pain shot through Amy’s arm, but as she pulled her hand away, she saw the fibres start to knit themselves back together.

Her attention was only drawn away by the burst of bright purple fire from the grooves within the floor. Curiously the fire was cold, even to Amy’s undead touch, and she found she could pass through it without issues, as it raced past her and lit the first brazier. From that brazier, the fire arced out along the grooves, stopping in a hole near an unlit brazier at the next set of grooves running from the pillar.

“A sliding block puzzle, how original”, Amy groaned as she pushed the brazier into the path of the fire, standing back to watch as the brazier burst into flames and the fire arced out towards the next one. As the final brazier snapped into place, Amy felt the ground give an all-mighty rumble. The floor around the pillar split apart, as the ground around her began to sink into the shape of an amphitheatre, and at the centre, a stone monolith rose from a purple void.

Warily, Amy approached the monolith, but as she did, the front of the monolith – no, sarcophagus, Amy’s mind insisted – slide down to reveal… A woman? More than a woman, the mysterious woman from Amy’s dream. She began to fall from her resting place, as Amy lunged forward to catch her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I didn't expect to get this chapter out that quickly, but some academic meetings have been put on hold thanks to illness and it really flew off the page.
> 
> How do people feel Amy's combat abilities came across? The tone I'm trying to aim towards is a relatively realistic one for a modern character thrust into this world, being forced to deal with weaponry they've possibly never even seen, let alone used in any sort of setting, but occasionally capable of feats of self-defence from rushes of adrenaline.


	3. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy encounters Serana for the first time, and strikes up a complicated relationship with the elder vampire as she escorts her to castle volkihar

Serana groaned as she jerked awake. _Still in this damn sarcophagus_ , she bitterly thought as her eyesight attempted to adjust. She did not know how long she had been sealed away, although the thirst that began to gnaw away at her whenever she woke up like this suggested it had been quite a while. At least she had been mostly able to sleep throughout this imprisonment, to have been trapped in here awake, with only her thirst for company and no concept of passing time would be a form of torture her father would have been proud of.

Just as Serana began to drift back to sleep, she was jolted by a sudden grinding and shaking of the earth around her. She could swear her sarcophagus was flying upwards, giving her a less than pleasant sensation of weightlessness. That flying feeling came to an abrupt stop, causing her to lurch forward, just as the front of her tomb opened and granted her sweet freedom. Serana braced, ready to hit the floor, but the impact never came. Instead, she found herself in someone’s arms. Thankful for her release, Serana took her first breath in... in... well, however long it was, it had been far too long.

Something was wrong though, that first breath told her that much. The scent of the person in whose arms she now found herself assaulted her senses. They were undeniably a Child of Coldharbour, the scent of despair and death clung to this rescuer, however there was something else there, something new. _That is what’s wrong,_ Serana dimly realised – the person holding her was one of Molag Bals creations, but not her parents. Snarling, she launched herself away from this figure and into a crouch, readying an ice spike in her left hand in case she needed to defend herself.

Looking back at her would be rescuer, Serana felt rather foolish. Sure, everything about the woman screamed dangerous, all daughters of Coldharbour did, but beneath that she could see a woman who did not carry herself for any kind of fight. As it was this woman that had released her was staring at her, a mixture of curiosity and something Serana couldn’t quite put her finger on flashing in the stranger’s eyes. Lowering her guard and dismissing the ice spike, she addressed her would be saviour.

“I– I – don’t want to hurt you, but I will defend myself.” Serana was uneasy speaking, her voice catching in her throat and coming out as barely a hoarse whisper. _How long was I in there?_ She wondered, as the woman approached, hands raised in submission.

\--

Amy could only stare in wonder at the woman that had just fallen into her arms. That dream, had it really been real? A vision of the future, of her future? She was so lost in thought she barely reacted when her mysterious woman leapt away. When the woman snarled and conjured a spike of ice out of the palm of her hand however, Amy was jolted back to reality. Carefully, she raised her hands to lower tensions and slowly approached.

“Who are you? Who sent you here?”, the mysterious woman asked, her voice clearly on edge.

Amy stopped a few metres before the mysterious woman, hands still raised. Warily, she responded “I’m Amy. Who are you?”

“Serana”. The mysterious woman’s answer was curt. “Now Amy, why are you here? Who sent you?”

“I don’t know what you mean Serana. No one sent me, I came looking for help.”, Amy tried to explain, but Serana was having none of it. “I was expecting one of my family to come and get me out. I can tell you’re also a daughter of Coldharbour, and yet I don’t recognise you.”, Serana’s tongue was sharp, “So, are you one of my father’s acolytes?”

Amy didn’t like how this was going. “No, I was looking for the vigilants of Stendarr here. I don’t even know who your father is?”

It was Serana’s turn to be confused. Amy’s response had caught her unawares. _Why would a vampire be looking for the vigilants of Stendarr?_ With significantly less confidence in her voice, Serana responded. “My father is a very powerful man. Or, at least he was. I’m surprised another vampire hasn’t heard of him. Even more so that a vampire is looking for the vigilants. Why?”

“Another vampire? How did you know? I was–”, the words stuck in her throat, would Serana understand? “I was looking for a cure.”

Serana looked at Amy with sorrow, “The vigilants wouldn’t be able to help you. They’d just kill you. As for how, you think I can’t tell my own kind? I could smell it on you before I even opened my eyes. I’m surprised you couldn’t – why would you plunge forward to catch me?”

Amy’s heart plummeted. “Wouldn’t be able to help? What do you mean?”

“You, me, we’re dead. Molag Bal killed us and then bought us back like this. If, and it’s a big if, if there is a cure, it would be really advanced necromancy. The vigilants would have no part in it.” Serana paused. “I’m sorry. Look, help me get back to my family's home and I’ll do what I can to help you.”

Amy was devastated. _So, I’m stuck like this?!_ Nodding sadly, she agreed. “OK then. Why were you in there anyway?” pointing back at the sarcophagus, “with whatever that thing on your back is.”

Serana sighed. “It’s a long story and one I’m not sure I can tell right now. Let me get home and figure things out and I’ll answer. And this ‘thing’ is an elder scroll.” Serana paused, seeing the oblivious look on Amy’s face. “Don’t know much about elder scrolls huh? Never mind, neither do I. Amazingly you can’t learn much about something just by sleeping with it for god knows how many years.”

“So do you want to learn more about me?” The words were out of Amy’s mouth before she could even consider what she had said. At this point she was glad her condition meant she could no longer blush. _Oh gods, Serana is going to think I’m such an idiot._

Serana watched Amy’s face drop as she processed what she had said, before letting out a short chuckle. “I’m flattered, but we’ve only just met. Tell you what, how about we get out of this cavern and you can buy me dinner. After that, who knows”, she said with a subtle wink.

Amy was caught cold by that response. _Wait, is she flirting with me?_ Giddy excitement gave way to panic as Amy considered the implications of what Serana had said. _But, buy her dinner? She’s a vampire – she’s not asking me to hunt or kill someone is she?_

Serana saw this panic cross Amy’s face and threw her hands up. “It was just a dumb joke. Come on, let’s find our way out of here.”.

Amy felt a combination of relief and disappointment, unsure as to whether Serana’s joke had been just about dinner or whether she had misread it as flirty without any interest in her from the vampire princess. Choking back the doubt, Amy offered a weak grin. “Sure. Any ideas on the way out – you’ve spent more time here than I have. Incidentally, how long were you in there?”

“I have. Can’t say I had the greatest view or tour of the place in a windowless sarcophagus though.”, Serana could barely hold back the laughter. “Good question, it’s hard to tell. I’m guessing from your get up it’s been a while. What year is it?”

Amy stumbled at that question; she had no idea. Deciding her best bet was to instead position it against what she thought she knew from the events of oblivion, she responded: “Not quite sure, I’m new to the area. It’s been a couple of hundred years since the Oblivion crisis though.”

“New to the area?” Serana looked at Amy like she had two heads, “and what’s the Oblivion crisis?”

Amy looked to avoid any further question, how was she supposed to explain that she was probably from a different dimension? “The Oblivion crisis. Y’know, cultists killed Emperor Uriel Septim VII and his heirs, extinguishing the dragon fires and allowing Mehrunes Dagon to invade Nirn. Then Uriel’s illegitimate son Martin mantled the avatar of Akatosh, closing the gates to oblivion and saving the realm”.

Serana stared at Amy with a mixture of shock and terror written across her face. “Mehrunes Dagon invaded Nirn? And, emperor? There’s an empire?”

Amy was stunned by this response; the empire was in every elder scrolls game she’d played. “Yeah, the empire from Cyrodill?”

Serana started muttering to herself, “this can’t be good”. Snapping her attention to Amy, she queried, “You’re saying Cyrodill is the seat of an empire?”. At a nod from Amy, Serana continued her musing, “I’ve been sealed away too long, definitely longer than we planned.”

Turning back to Amy, Serana pleaded, “Please, we’ve got to get back to my home so I can figure out what’s happened”.

With concern for her potential new friend, Amy agreed and the pair began looking for a way out with Amy’s thrall in tow. They’d barely crossed a natural bridge formed within the cavern before two grotesque statues exploded in a shower of stone, leaving behind two snarling creatures. Serana however carried herself for a fight well and put an ice spike straight through the eye of one of the gargoyles. It collapsed to the floor, convulsing, and did not get back up.

Amy however was having a far harder time with the second creature. Ducking and weaving from its claws, she spent most of her time on the back foot, while her thrall’s sword bounced harmlessly off its skin. Shrugging off the irritant, the gargoyle lashed out at her thrall, sending him flying into the wall of the cavern with a sickening crunch, his heart fluttering before becoming still. The gargoyle rounded on Amy again, who panicked began to think of all the people she would never see again. She flinched, waiting for the gargoyles claws to rend through her body, but they never came. Instead, she heard a roar of pain, and looked up to see the gargoyle collapsing at the hands of Serana, a golden dagger in her hand being plunged up through the roof of the gargoyles mouth.

Breathlessly, Amy asked of Serana, “What on earth was that?”

Serana was still for a moment, the fight had taken a great deal out of her. Taking a deep breath, her voice was like fury. “That? What in Oblivion were you doing? Do you not know how to look after yourself at all? You’re lucky I was here to rescue you!”

Amy felt like she could cry. Stammering, she began to apologise. “I’m – I’m sorry. I’ve never really fought before; I’ve never needed to where I came from. I...”

Serana’s stance immediately softened; she hadn’t wanted to hurt Amy. “I’m sorry Amy. I shouldn’t have snapped like that, I don’t want to see you hurt.” Serana paused, looking for the words. “But, here, what lies ahead, you’re going to need to know how to fight”.

Amy nodded, eyes damp. “Can you show me?”

“Not to wield a weapon, no. Not enough time to train you on that at least. But I guess I can show you a bit of destruction magic, give you a ranged weapon. All vampires have some natural tendency towards magic – if you throw out your hand meaning to cause harm, you’ll summon the drain life spell. In fact, try that now for me”

Serana watched as Amy did so and a cone of flickering red light appeared before Amy’s hand. “Good. So, that will drain the life energy away from a living creature, but for draugr and skeletons and other monsters, you’ll need something a little bit different. Remember that destruction magic is magic at its most primal, fire, lightning and ice. There are no spells to memorise, just sheer force of will. Think of the damage you want to cause and focus it, and it will come.”

Serana watched as Amy’s face wrinkled in concentration trying to summon more than a few sparks. _Divines she’s cute when she’s concentrating,_ Serana thought before chastising herself. _No, you don’t even know if she’s into you and now isn’t the time._ Serana was bought back to attention as Amy whooped, a small fireball floating in the palm of her hand. “Good, now you can throw that at anything by focusing on your intention to move it.” Serana watched as, after a couple of attempts, the fireball was launched across the cavern. “That will do for now, let’s get moving”.

The two vampiresses pushed through a door into a room with a lever and a grate blocking further movement. Sensing a trap, they readied themselves, fire bouncing from Amy’s hand, and pulled the lever. As expected, the grate opened and several skeletons rose from a pile. This time, however, Amy was prepared for a battle and found her flames and Serana’s ice made short work of the skeletons. Heading through the grate, they found themselves entering a large gladiator chamber, a draugr in robes sat in the main throne across the open space from them, hand gripping a sword that glowed purple.

Amy whispered to her companion in awe, “What is this place?”

“Old Nordic court”, came Serana’s answer. “The draugr over there in the throne would oversee it, with trials by combat occurring within that pit.”

Amy was fascinated. If there wasn’t a good chance that the zombies and skeletons knocking around would wake up and attack, she would have pulled out her notebook to make a few sketches and start investigating the place. Focusing on the pressing issue, she asked “So, what now then?”

Serana surveyed the scene in front of her. Nodding, she pointed to the right. “I think if we keep a crouch, we can sneak around the back of the stands here without waking any of them up.”

Agreeing, Amy slipped down into a crouch and proceeded slowly across the side of the room. As they progressed round the room however, Amy could swear she heard an almost religious style chanting, slowly getting louder as they crossed the room. In the corner, she could see a stone alcove, upon which scratches seemed to be glowing. Curious, she began to stalk towards the wall.

As she approached it, she could not help but take a deep gasp. The chanting had grown even louder still, until it was nearly deafening, as wind rushed past her head from the wall. One single set of scratches glowed brighter and brighter, burrowing into her mind’s eye. She saw the word, felt it in her very bones – energy, and the ability to drain it away. As the chanting subsided and the scratches ceased to glow, a single word came from her lips, echoing throughout the chamber. “ **GAAN**.”

Serana cursed as the shout echoed through the chamber and roused the draugr. Hearing the blade scrape across the floor, she readied herself. Spinning with her dagger at hand, Serana prepared to face the shambling zombie. The draugr stopped metres short however, and pulled back. Serana dimly remembered that some of the ancient Nords could shout, as the words “ **ZUN HAAL VIIK** ” ripped through the air, followed by a blast of blue air that collided with Serana and threw her dagger from her hand.

The draugr saw its opportunity and swung the sword down. The draugrs’ sword sparked off the stone floor as Serana scrambled back, summoning an ice spike and reaching for her dagger, but the draugr had the upper hand, crashing its weapon down in a rage and forcing Serana to dodge attack after attack. Serana knew she couldn’t last much longer in this position, and found herself thrown to the floor.

As the draugr loomed over her, winding up another swing, Serana felt the air crackle. Bolts of lightning arced over her head and into the chest of the draugr, causing it to stumble back. Serana could swear that she could hear Amy laughing and saying something about power behind the crackle of the lightning bolts, but couldn’t afford to give up this chance. Summoning an ice spike, Serana launched her attack. The spike collided with the draugrs face, piercing through and eliciting a groan of pain from it. Pushing forward onto the offensive, Serana grasped at her dagger and plunged it into the heart of the draugr, causing it to collapse into a pile.

Serana turned to see a smirk crossing Amy’s face. “What are you laughing at?”, Serana panted. “We could have been killed because you decided to shout out something – why?”

Amy suppressed a chuckle; she could tell now was a bad time. “Sorry, I was just thinking about how much I’d have enjoyed that ability back home, proper Palpatine material. And, I didn’t mean to shout anything, but that wall was chanting – couldn’t you hear it?”

Serana was thoroughly confused. _Palpatine. Chanting walls. What have you gotten yourself into this time?_ Raising an eyebrow, she responded. “Chanting walls? You’ve clearly been down here too long. Let’s get out of here before you’re convinced the chairs want to dance.” Walking up the stairs at the back of the chamber, she added “and who or what is Palpatine?”

Amy froze, how was she supposed to explain her pop culture jokes from another universe without prompting some very difficult questions? “It’s, uhm, an old story from my home. The ballad of Skywalker”, she lied. “It’s about a young farmer who leads a rebellion against a corrupt emperor and his advisor. The emperor could summon lightning from his fingers and used this to torture the farm boy until the advisor had a realisation and sacrificed himself to save the boy”.

Serana nodded, “Sounds like an interesting story.” A breeze wafted through a gash in the wall, beyond which Serana could see blankets of snow. “Fresh air at last, it’s so good to breathe again.” As she went to walk through, Amy grabbed her arm.

“Serana wait. The sun is due up in less than an hour and we’ll never make it to shelter before then. Shouldn’t we wait here until nightfall?”

Serana laughed. “No, no, it’s fine. If either of us were baser vampires, turned by a disease then yes, we’d need to worry, but for pure bloods like us the worst it will do is sting. Of course, it’s worst when you’ve not fed. Speaking of which”, Serana paused. “The both of us need to think about that shortly”.

“No. No. Serana, I can’t.” Amy shook as she remembered the sight of the dead vigilant in Markarth. “I’ve already killed two people because of that. I can’t do it.”

Serana sighed, “I understand Amy, I really do, but you have to. If you resist the thirst it will drive you mad. You’ll go feral, snap and cause even more damage.”

“No, I can’t. I’m not a killer. I didn’t ask for any of this. I was helping a vigilant inspect a house in Markarth a couple of days ago and found an altar. Then he appeared and... and...”, the words hitched in Amy’s throat. Serana knew what had happened, the same thing as had happened to her in _that_ ritual all those years ago. Pulling Amy into an embrace, she whispered. “It’s ok, you’re safe with me. I know what you’re going through, and I’ll be here for you.”

“Really?”, Amy glanced up through the tears welling up.

“Really.” Serana promised. “But you’ve got to look after yourself. Please.” Serana flashed the smile that, many lifetimes ago, had sent thousands of mortal women (and men, but she didn’t engage with them that much) weak at the knees. “For me?”

Choking back the tears, Amy agreed. “For you”.

Checking Amy’s map, the pair identified a small fort just to the east called Fort Dunstad, where Serana could feed and teach Amy to hunt. The journey down proved mercifully quick, and soon the two were crouched just inside the courtyards, where a lone bandit patrolled. Serana signalled to Amy to watch her, and pressed lower to the ground. Despite the fresh snow littering the ground, Seranas steps were silent, and soon she had crept into position behind the bandit. With a nod to Amy, Serana then struck in one fluid movement, grabbing the bandit with a hand across the mouth to silence any calls for help and sinking her fangs into his neck. Even from her vantage point, Amy could hear the man’s heart race before becoming weaker and eventually stopping.

Bounding back to Amy, Serana smiled cheerfully and gestured to a second bandit that had just come out of a small inn within the courtyard walls. Gulping, Amy settled into what she thought was a predator’s stance. Slowly but assuredly she stalked towards the unsuspecting bandit. Her footsteps however were not as quiet as Seranas and her prey began to turn. Abandoning stealth, Amy sprinted to close the gap and grab the bandit before an alarm could be raised. Amy felt the struggles of the bandit as she began to drink greedily from them, and felt them become a dead weight in her arms. She had done it; she had actually intentionally killed someone.

Walking across to Amy, Serana saw the conflict on her friends’ face. “It’s OK Amy, I’m proud of you. You did well, a bit too noisy but you contained the situation well.”

“Does it get easier? Knowing that you’re taking lives?”, Amy whispered.

Seranas hand went to Amy’s shoulder, “I wish I could say it does. The knowledge never goes away but, you get used to it. I promise I’ll help you adjust.”

Amy smiled weakly at her companion. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She looked at the sun now starting to crest over the mountains. “Now, come on. Let’s get to Dawnstar.”

The two vampiresses took a moment to hide the bodies away to avoid rousing suspicion, then set north on the road to Dawnstar. Serana found her travelling companion to be fascinating company, openly gasping in awe at a giant camp and their mammoths and pulling out a small journal to draw them – Serana had to pull her away after the giants began to gesture threateningly and Amy remained oblivious to it.

\--

“No. Absolutely not. They say that place is haunted – I won’t go there”. The Dawnstar boat captain was as stubborn as a mule, firmly rejecting the requests by the pair to take them to a small island just north west of Solitude, where Serana claimed her family should be.

“Look, please. It’s important that we get there. We’ll pay you double your normal rate?”, Amy tried to reason, offering out the gold they had collected from a nearby bandit camp that made the ill-advised choice to try and rob the two vampiresses.

“Not for any amount of money. People that sail round there don’t come back.” The captain was having none of it. Amy opened her mouth to argue again, when Serana put a hand across her and cut her off. Nodding to Amy, Serana then tried her own method of persuasion on the captain.

Amy watched with jealousy for the boat captain, _I wish she’d be like that with me_ , as Serana laid on the charm so thickly Amy wasn’t sure anyone could resist it. With a voice like honey, Serana had soon bargained the captain down to taking them to nearby on the mainland, just off a place called Northwatch Keep. They would have to make the rest of the journey themselves, and their way back as he wouldn’t stick around for them, but it was the best they were going to get. Climbing into the boat, they pushed off as Seranas homecoming drew near.

The sea was mercifully calm as they passed the mouth of the river leading to Solitudes docks, skirting round the lighthouse and into the northern seas. Serana was nervous to be returning, she hadn’t seen her father in thousands of years and they weren’t exactly close then. Glancing over to Amy, Serana saw that her travelling companion was lost deep in worried thought.

The boat ride was quiet and uneasy as both vampiresses considered what lay ahead of them. Upon disembarking, Amy broke the silence. “So, how exactly are we supposed to get over there?”, she glanced at the sea, which had started to turn very choppy as the winds picked up. “I’m not sure swimming is a particularly good option.”

Serana responded snarkily. “Obviously we’re not going to _swim_. My family kept a small boat at a pier down here, we’ll take that.” Serana pondered for a second. “Of course, if you’re thinking of swimming, I can always tip you out of it.”

“You’re all right thanks. So where is this boat?”

Amy was less than impressed with what she saw at the pier. Far from a small boat, this thing could barely be called a dinghy, equipped with just two small oars. “This is it? Hardly seems like the luxurious travel that a person of your stature would warrant...”

“Yep” Serana responded cheerily. “Of course, you’re right that a princess like myself shouldn’t be rowing a small dinghy”. Serana climbed in and grabbed the oars, then with a laugh threw them to Amy, “So I guess you’ve volunteered to row.” Amy scowled as she climbed in and pushed the boat off.

“So then, care to tell me what was bothering you on the boat?”. Amy found Serana to be unbearably chipper as she rowed across to the castle, and the vampire princess’ line of questioning was not one she wanted to deal with. Seeing Serana charm that boat captain had made her feel foolish for ever thinking Serana could be interested in a loser like her.

“I don’t know what you mean”, Amy’s lie was unconvincing.

“Oh, I think you do”, Serana pressed. “You were worried or upset about something. I want to help Amy”.

Amy sighed. “I know Serana, but it’s complicated. Can we leave it until later?”

Serana pouted but relinquished. “Fine. So, taking you home to meet my dad then”, Serana winked. “He’s quite old-fashioned so just keep your head and let me take the lead.”

Amy’s heart ached. _Does she have to joke as if we were dating?_ Nodding weakly, Amy agreed as they moored the boat and walked up towards the castle, imposing upon the skyline. Amy could not help but be impressed, and let out a low whistle, which caught Seranas attention.

“Problem?”

“No. Just impressed that this is what you call home. I thought you were joking when you called yourself a princess, now I’m wondering whether I should be calling you mi ‘lady”.

Serana chuckled. “Well, I could be tempted to give that a try. Have you serving on me at every beck and call.” Seranas tongue shot out as she dodged Amy’s attempts to punch her arm. Putting her hand to the door, Serana asked her companion: “Are you ready?”

Amy nodded, and took Seranas hand as the door pushed open. Immediately through the door they encountered a tall, elven looking vampire who seemed incredulous at the presence of the two vampiresses in front of him. A wordless question, an affirmative nod from Serana, and the elf turned to the main hall, shouting with glee.

“My lord, everyone, Serana has returned!”

Serana turned to her travelling companion and with a shrug, “Well, I guess I’m expected. Come on then, it’s time for you to meet my family”.


	4. Life at Castle Volkihar

Harkon sat watching the fire rage in its hearth within his private chambers, a brandy glass with a suspiciously red and viscous liquid in hand. Above the fire sat a portrait of far happier times, however damaged. On the right he sat in his royal splendour, the portrait artist capturing the regal statesman he believed himself to have been, in the high-backed throne that oversaw his court now. To the left, a viewer may one day have seen a woman who had been his match in every way, a fearsome mage in her own right.

Those days had long passed, the portrait marred by several long gashes through it where, in a rage, Harkon had looked to destroy it, to take revenge on her the only way he knew how. Revenge he so dearly craved after she stole away all that was precious to him: the young woman stood behind the two thrones, looking over his shoulder. Serana. A single tear dropped from Harkons eye, four thousand years had passed since his traitor wife had spirited away his daughter and heir while he was researching.

When neither returned, Harkon had flown into a rage and destroyed the courtyard that Valerica called home most of the time. He spent hundreds of years tearing apart all of Skyrim looking for his daughter and the elder scroll she carried but came up empty. Many of his court had come to him since, claiming to have tracked down where Serana had been hidden. Many of them had learnt that death would be a blessing in the torture rooms after they had returned empty handed. The latest to make that claim, Lokil, had not been seen for three weeks. If he thought he could run and escape Harkons wrath, he would find himself sorely mistaken.

Rising to his feet, Harkon started to stride through the castle to Serana’s room. No one except him had been in here for three thousand years. No one had dared after that Altmer woman had while playing fetch with the death hounds. Harkon did not know what had happened to her after he exiled her, nor did he care. As far as he was concerned, she should consider it a mercy he didn’t kill her where she stood. He maintained the room by himself exactly as his daughter had left it, right down to the plants she grew for her alchemical experiments.

Far in the distance, Harkon could hear Garan Marethi shouting. No doubt his steward was outraged by the actions of Vingalmo or Orthjolf trying to undermine the other. Harkon tired of their political manoeuvring, their fight over a throne in which he still sat. One day he would have to remind them of their place, and cut off their minions Salonia and Stalf. As his mouth curled into an unsettling grin upon considering this, he heard two sets of footsteps running towards the door of Serana’s room. Surely no one would be foolish enough to interrupt him in here?

Stalf and Salonia rounded the corner, wrestling with each other to deliver the news to Lord Harkon. Stalf spoke first, wheezing “My lord...”. Salonia was quick to cut him off. “My Lord, Lady Serana has returned!”.

Harkon could scarcely believe them, after all this time? Lokil had come through, and with it any claims Vingalmo and Orthjolf had to being second in command would vanish. With purpose he strode to the balcony overlooking his court. They had not deceived him, there on the far side of the room was indeed Serana. And yet, Lokil was nowhere to be seen. Instead, holding Serana’s hand was a young woman who looked completely out of place within this land. Harkon was curious, and hoped he could get a chance to talk to his daughters’ companion in private, but now was not the time for curiosity. A gleeful smile, the first genuine one he had pulled in millennia, crossed Harkons face as he bellowed across the room.

“At last, my daughter has returned. I trust you still have the elder scroll?”

Serana was devastated by Harkons welcome. _Thousands of years apart and that’s the reunion he cares about?_ Angrily she spit back, “What, no ‘welcome home Serana'? No ‘It’s so good to have you home, I’ve missed you'? Yes, I’ve got the scroll.”

If Harkon was perturbed by his daughter’s outburst he did not show it. “Of course I’m delighted to have you back my daughter, must I really say it aloud?”. He turned to face Amy. “So, tell me. Who is this stranger you have bought into our home?”

“This is Amy, she freed me from that crypt and helped me return home.”

“She freed you? Lokil was sent to do that...” Harkon trailed off, talking more to himself. “No matter. Amy, for my daughters’ safe return you have my gratitude. Please, follow me back to my chambers, there is much I would like to discuss with you.” Turning, Harkon began to stroll away, only to look back, “You had best come too Serana.”

Amy glanced to Serana, who gripped her hand tighter. “It’s ok Amy”, she whispered reassuringly, “my father believes strongly in rewarding those who do him a great service. But,” glancing at the stairs, she finished “It’s best not to keep him waiting.”

\--

As Amy and Serana entered Harkons chambers, they saw him in his throne, back to the door and staring into the fire. Two smaller chairs were pulled up beside him. Harkon did not turn to face them, or even speak, instead he merely waved his wrist and gestured to the two chairs. Amy and Serana walked cautiously over and took their seats. A moments silence passed before Harkon spoke.

“So, Amy.” Harkons voice was stern and unflinching. “I sent Lokil to Dimhollow to find Serana. Why is it then that she arrives back here in the hands of another, and a pure-blooded vampire at that?”

“Lokil and his assistant got into a fight with three vigilants of Stendarr. While he fought them off, he injured himself. When he attacked me afterwards, I defended myself”, Amy lied. _A partial truth, but he doesn’t need to know that my thrall did all the work_ , “turns out that I was more powerful”.

Harkon was silent for a moment and Amy began to worry, was he angry at the killing of one of his underlings? That worry dissipated however as Harkon broke into laughter. “Of course you were my dear.” His laugh boomed through the cavernous room. “I’ve not known another besides my family to prove worthy of the blessings of Molag Bal in millennia.”

Amy was about to snap at him, to declare what she had gone through a blessing?!, but hand on her arm from Serana made it clear this was not an argument to have with Harkon. Instead, swallowing her anger Amy enquired, “So, what now then?”

Harkon pondered the question before answering. “Now my dear, your new life begins. You deserve a reward for returning my daughter to me. I offer you a home, and a senior place in my court – a vampire of your power belongs here.”

Amy considered this offer carefully. While she had no desire to be a vampire and hoped Serana could help locate a cure, she could not deny that with no home or family here, and Serana the only person in this world she actually knew, this would be the safest place for her, at least for now. Her response was cautious. “Very well, I will accept your gracious offer and join your court.”

Harkon clapped, voice brimming with joy. “Excellent, excellent. Then welcome to the family. Serana, perhaps you’d like to show Amy around. I’ve kept your room as it was, although perhaps you should add an extra coffin for Amy. Wouldn’t want her sleeping with the lower ranking members of my court.”

“Oh absolutely, she’d be far better off sleeping with me”, Serana laughed, tossing a sly wink at Amy. Amy however didn’t notice this and instead her felt a pang in her heart over what she assumed was an innocent comment with an unfortunate double meaning.

\--

Serana seemed all too pleased to drag Amy around the castle, spending a long time exploring the lab where two vampires Serana introduced as Feran Sadri and Ronthil were pouring over a number of books and an alchemy station. While the information in this small library would likely be worthless were Amy to find a way of returning home, she could not deny a curiosity in learning all the books had to offer, a curiosity it seemed Serana would be keen to indulge.

Less of a curiosity and more a necessity, Amy had also struck up conversation with a Nord vampire by the name of Fura Bloodmouth in the smithing area. She could only marvel as Fura tried every weapon forged by Hestla, the woman operating the forge, regularly destroying the training dummies set out. So long as she was here, Amy would need to learn how to fight, and Fura seemed more than willing to impart her advice, attacking and teaching Amy to attack in a method that would leave her nursing several bruises were she still mortal.

Unpleasantly for Amy, she had found that mortals did reside in the castle, after Serana decided to show her to the kitchens. Wondering what lay beyond the tables where Rargal Thrallmaster stood organising bottles, Amy pushed through a door to find a floor strewn with bones, and 6 people stood caged in rags. Serana had ushered her away before Amy’s shock could be noted, but it left no uncertainty as to what Amy had agreed to when she accepted Harkons offer.

“And this is my room”, Serana’s voice dragged Amy back from her own mind. “Or should I say our room? I had Garan bring through another coffin if you wanted it, up by the closet.”

Amy started to poke around the room, seeing another alchemy station with a shelf of ingredients next to it along with a strange table covered in runes, before stopping at the coffin. “Oh, I’ve never slept in a coffin before. What’s the deal with them?”

Serana laughed. “Just an aesthetic I guess. We can sleep in beds easy enough – after all that time in Dimhollow I’d rather not close myself in one of those anyway.”

“Oh.” Amy was nervous and a stream of consciousness spewed forth before she could control it. “Would it be ok if I shared the bed? No, of course not Amy you idiot, sorry I didn’t mean to impose. I’ll just go over here”. Had she been capable of turning red Amy would have as she swung the coffin lid shut behind her. How could she have made such a fool out of herself?

Serana sat onto the bed, stunned by what had just happened. She wanted to speak to Amy and explain that it wouldn’t be an imposition, that she would actually love to share the bed, but how was she supposed to do that without making things awkward?

\--

Weeks passed without Serana finding the courage to make things clear to Amy. Each evening passed in much the same way, Amy would spend several hours with Fura Bloodmouth learning to use the two ebony swords that Hestla had made her forge. Amy was far from a natural with this weaponry, much to the ire of Fura, however she proved a very impressive teacher and soon had Amy successfully wielding the twin blades with remarkable fury and precision.

The remainder of the night was spent with Serana in the laboratory, learning to brew various potions and practicing her magic. Initially they had looked to hone Amy’s destruction magic, but after a misplaced rune had burnt off Orthjolf’s eyebrows, much to the amusement of Vingalmo, they had chosen to focus on the schools of illusion and conjuration.

“Why is this so hard?”, Amy grunted as the corpse she was attempting to raise twitched before falling still again.

“Necromancy is a very tricky skill to get Amy”, Serana offered as she rose from her chair. “Many of the best mages can’t manage it. Many have no desire to, it’s not exactly a wholesome field of knowledge”.

Amy sighed and drew the runic pattern in the air again, pushing it towards the corpse of the alchemist on the table before her. This time she heard the corpse groan and an arm move before falling still again.

Amy cursed as Serana walked over and put a hand round her shoulder. “Closer”, she offered sympathetically. “Look, the sun will be up in an hour. Why don’t we take a walk around the island then get a bite to eat. We can pick this up again tomorrow?”

Amy didn’t even look up, just nodded as Serana lead her to the castle doors. She felt crushingly out of her depth with this form of magic, a reminder that she was not born to this world at all. Amy wondered what time had passed at home since she’d been sent to this land, how were her family coping?

The full moon hung low above them, illuminating the whole grounds as Serana dragged Amy towards the waterfront. Amy was grateful for the time that her and Serana could spend together like this, the only other member of the castle with which she engaged with regularly was Fura, and the Nords attitude towards vampirism and power left Amy with little desire to grow close outside of their student/teacher dynamic. Amy just wished she could also find the courage to tell Serana how she felt about her – maybe she should focus on the illusion school more and learn to cast something like that on herself.

Amy was pulled out of her thoughts as a crossbow bolt whizzed past her left shoulder, missing by an inch. Serana readied an ice spike, looking for their would-be assailant, while Amy spotted them – a scout perched by a couple of rocks on the shoreline, clad head to toe in heavy gray steel armour, a sun emblazoned on the cuirass. Growling, Amy drew her ebony swords and charged at the Dawnguard scout. He struggled to reload the crossbow, dropping it as he saw the pure-blooded vampire rushing him.

Amy swung her blades with furious venom, and while the Dawnguard scout had managed to grab his shield and axe in time, he was pushed back by several narrowly blocked strikes. He attempted to strike back with his war axe, the edge clattering into Amy’s blade and sending up sparks. The young vampire snarled and whipped the sword in her left hand down at her opponents’ head. The shield went up as Amy was expecting, and her second blade swung low, smashing into the chest of the vampire hunter. Her sword sliced through the armour as if it were paper, smoke pouring from it into the cavity left behind (an effect Hestla had explained as the result of the Daedra heart used to quench both blades). Blood pooled from the wound opened as the Dawnguard scout collapsed. Amy could not take time to stand over the kill though as a searing pain ripped through her leg. Looking down, she saw an arrow judder out of her ankle. The archer was stood atop the watchtower, and as his venomous gaze met Amy’s, she saw red before the world around her seemed to explode.

Serana meanwhile had found herself in combat with a second scout. Her opponent was obviously inexperienced in combat, but the persistence of his attacks meant Serana had very little opening to take advantage of his poor form. Serana needed a distraction, and the roar of Amy as she shifted gave that. Both Serana and the young Dawnguard warrior spun to see this grotesque bat like creature shoot into the sky towards the lookout tower, but Serana recovered her attention first, and with her vampiric strength sent her opponent crashing into a rock. His heart did not grow still but he would not be getting up to continue the fight, Serana could tell that much. She turned her attention to the scene she had just witnessed, and rushed up the stairs of the watchtower.

At the top, Amy had found her assailant. The Dawnguard archer was brave, but foolish and no match for the mantle of the vampire lord. The battle was over before it could even begin, as Amy’s claws ripped through his armour to depths that would have killed him in seconds, even if her fangs had not closed around his throat a moment later, tearing it out. As the rich blood flowed through her mouth and the adrenaline rush died, Amy’s world faded back into blackness.

Serana arrived to find Amy unconscious but visibly unharmed at what had obviously been a massacre. Pulling her friend into her arms, Serana carried Amy back to their room before sending Ronthil out to gather up the still living Dawnguard member and take him to the cage in Harkons quarters – her father would want to know about this attack, and if Amy wasn’t OK then Serana would torture the man herself.


End file.
